Marty Stew?
by Woodland Goddess
Summary: One-shot in connection with my Trust Books 1 and 2. Our favourite metamorphmagus gets more than she bargained for when heading out to educate Remus' new pack.


Title: Marty Stew...?

Author: Woodland Goddess

Summary: This is a one-shot in connection with my Trust Books 1 and 2. Our favourite Metamorphmagus gets more than she bargained for when heading out to educate the pack Remus has joined up for.

Rated: M

Pairing: Tonks/OC

Warnings: Nudity

Dislaimer: I don't own any of the characters publically recognisable as property of J K Rowling and her various publishers. Don't sue me; I write for my own enjoyment.

Nymphadora Tonks groaned grumpily as a silvery light invaded her room in Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, at the ungainly hour of eleven in the morning, on a Saturday - her day off! "Piss off!" Dora growled, the lower portion of her face morphing in to the powerful jaws of a lion, as she jerked upright in batted, swiping a suddenly clawed hand through the air, at the silvery Patronus making its way towards her. The Phoenix-Patronus paused but continued towards her, growing steadily brighter with every passing second.

"Nymphadora," the Phoenix began in the unforgettable voice of Albus Dumbledore.

"Don't call me Nymphadora!" Dora hissed, her hair turning a violent red.

"I'll call you whatever name I please," Dumbledore's Patronus replied in the cheeky tones of a merry Dumbledore, who would have known exactly what Dora's previous response would be. "Forgive me for intruding upon your slumber, dear girl, but your talents are required, I'm afraid. Do you recall Remus' mission with the Werewolves? Well, he has become a member of the Moretti pack in Snowdonia, and I've offered the Order's services in instructing the older pack members in how to defend themselves with magic, should the need arise. I need you to head there as soon as you're dressed and fed, and begin instruction as soon as possible."

The Patronus stopped talking and Dora took that to mean it was about to disappear. She slumped in bed, closing her eyes, hoping to get in another hour or two. But she was rudely roused once more. "No, Dora, that does not mean you get another few hours sleep. I want you out of bed, now." Dora whined and opened her eyes, to see the Patronus staring at her in that Dumbledore-ish fashion, which totally freaked her out. "Now," Dumbledore's voice said again, sounding quit stern.

Frustrated beyond belief, Dora grabbed a pillow and flung it at the Patronus, but it was already gone. She sighed, her hair turning back to bubblegum pink and pushed back the blankets, before stumbling out of bed. Still half-blinded by the light of the Patronus, she grabbed the nearest bits of clothing she could get her hands on – a pair of skinny jeans, black boots and a Weasley Wizard Wheezes Novelty T-shirt of Harry Potter saying, "You can't give a Dementor the old one-two!" Looking rather like a Zombie, Dora left the spare bedroom at Number Twelve, and blearily made her way downstairs, where Molly Weasley was already busy making breakfast for everyone who was up, humming away to herself.

"Food," Dora grunted, trudging towards the kitchen table. She grabbed some toast, buttered the two slices, put in some cheese, and then squashed a total of eight sausages in to it, before making her way back out of the kitchen, utterly unaware of Arthur Weasley blinking stupidly his outstretched towards the plate of sausages that was now empty. "Dumbledore. Work. Bye," she grunted again, before pulling the door closed. Alternating between eating, and grumbling under her breath, Dora left Number Twelve.

On the steps outside the house, she focused her mind on the Werewolf pack in Snowdonia, and turned on the spot, disapparating with a loud crack. With another loud crack she popped in to being in the edge of a clearing, which was in front of the mouth of a cave. Taking the second last bite out of her sandwich, she cast her gaze around. It was a pretty nice place, save for the fact that civilisation was missing in action. She swallowed and called out, "hello! Anyone there? Dumbledore sent me to train you guys!"

Dora fell back and almost died of a heart attack when a naked man dropped out of a tree and landed on the ground in front of her. Wide-eyed, mouth open, utterly speechless, Dora stared at him. He was...Merlin, he was beautiful! The man was tall, roughly six feet, and slim, but so muscled! Every movement he made was a ripple of musculature that sent Dora's brain exploding in her head. Just like every other Werewolf in existence, he had amber eyes, which gleamed and sparkled in the sunlight as he gazed down at her.

"Hello, there," he said, his voice like smooth caramel, his eyes never leaving her face. "Want a hand?" A debonair smile stole across his face as he offered a powerful hand to her. All Dora could do was squeak wordlessly and stare at the hand offered to her. For the life of her, she could not remember how to speak or move. "I'll take that as a yes," he continued, and bowed slightly, in order to wrap his large hand around her upper arm. Another squeak escaped Dora's suddenly constricted throat, and her eyes jumped down to where his hand was touching her.

With hardly any effort, at all, he tugged her up from the ground, setting her right on her feet. "My name's Andrew and you're Tonks, aren't you? Remus told us about you...and your distinctive hair." His smile broadened as he removed his hand from her arm, before he used said hand to brush a lock of his own ginger hair behind his ear.

"I...I...I...I...I...I..." Dora stammered, still staring at him.

"Like you very much?" Andrew asked in amusement, finishing the lyrics of a well-known song...at least...well-known since Remus Lupin had walked in to the pack's lives.

"No!" Dora replied, finally managed to get something sensible out. "I mean..."

"What she means is that she wasn't going to say that," said a familiar voice somewhere off to the left. Both turned to see Remus approaching, with a pair of young-enough ginger teenagers in tow. "Andrew, William and Peter are having trouble with one of the moves you showed them yesterday, can you go over it with them, please?" Andrew inclined his head towards Remus and jogged off to the other side of the clearing, beckoning William and Peter to follow him. Dora could not help but stare after Andrew, watching the nude man run.

"Quite a sight isn't it?" Remus asked teasingly, poking Dora's arm.

Like a drugged thing Dora turned to look at him. "Huh?"

Remus started chuckling, but the chuckle soon turned in to real hearty laugh as he closed his eyes and rested his hands against his legs. The sound of Remus' laughter roused Dora from her zombified state, and she promptly stumbled back with a yell of surprise. "Remus! You're naked! Why are you naked? Stop being naked! Oh, my god! My eyes! My eyes! They burn!" Dora hid her face in her hands, cringing away from Remus, who just laughed harder, tears of mirth glistening in his eyes.

When he was able to breathe and do something other than laugh, he wiped his eyes and gasped in some much needed air. "Oh, sweet Merlin, that was hilarious," Remus said, taking a moment to compose himself fully. "Sorry, Nymphadora, Dumbledore should have warned you. The pack has strict traditions that it adheres to...and hey! I'm no Andrew, but I'm not so hideous that you have to hide away!"

"Sorry! I just...wow...totally unexpected! I mean...Merlin...God...sorry," Dora replied, tentatively lowering her hands. Avoiding looking at Remus, who was her friend, she turned her gaze on Andrew on the other side of the clearing, who was, at that very moment, instructing William and Peter in a rather complex move for hand-to-hand combat. "Who is that guy?" she asked, her tone suddenly dipping towards the dreamy.

Remus chuckled. "That's Andrew, the Beta's cousin. He's handsome, isn't he? He's really talented, too, as you can see...and being a Werewolf, he automatically has a dark past. He's what I like to call a Marty Stu."

"Marty Stew?" Dora asked, distracted, her nose wrinkling as an automatic image of a stew made with Marty-flesh popped in to her brain. "Eurgh."

"No, Nymphadora," Remus replied patiently. "Not stew, Stu!"

"Right..." Dora trailed off, already forgetting what Remus said, so intent was she on gazing at Andrew.


End file.
